


To Let Fall

by macavitykitsune



Category: Dark Tower - Stephen King, Saiyuki, Saiyuki Gaiden
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Multiverse, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macavitykitsune/pseuds/macavitykitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In every world, there is a gunslinger, but not all journeys end alike. Or, Sanzo would like it if people stopped talking to him in his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Let Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I have been a king,  
> And I have been a slave,  
> Nor is there anything -  
> Fool, rascal, knave -  
> That I have not been,  
> And yet upon my breast  
> A myriad heads have lain.
> 
> -W.B. Yeats, Mohini Chatterjee

__  
  
  
This is not the first time the gunslinger has reached the Tower, which in other worlds is called Death, or Life, or Power. Nor is it the only world in which he strives towards it. All worlds come to an end, and his is a nature that calls to a battle to end all things, time and again, drawn to death like an avenging bird of prey - or a grim reaper. Time and again he falls by the wayside, too strong to stop and too weak to triumph - and yet his is a nature that will not permit the first and will not accept the latter.

_There are some whose Towers lie in the heart._

_Time and again he rises, calling his faithful to him, time and again he destroys them in his quest, trapped by his purpose, fueled by his betrayals. Time and again he journeys to death, no matter which direction he chooses - for do not the living journey towards death for the price of every breath? And time and again he fails, climbing the Tower to the inevitable decline of mind and heart and soul, cast out on the desert of life (that some call Death, and others Rebirth). And time and again he picks himself up, new-born to purpose and ancient in his loyalty to it, and journeys forth, to love and betray and love and kill_

_but not always_  
  
  
In one world, he is a gunslinger, a prince, racing to find the Dark Tower. In another, a gunslinger, a fallen god, seeking a ruined castle in which death scuttles on spider legs. In one world, his ka-tet is drawn from different worlds. In another, they are drawn across time. Whatever form they take, whatever lives they live, still this is their role - to stand, or to fall, and above all to go on.

_  
_

_This is how the dice fall:_

There is more than one voice in his head. There always has been.

The voice of the heretic, frail and pleading, earth screaming for the sun. Strength hidden within innocence, wisdom hidden within curiosity.  _Let him out. Draw the card, open the door, let all divine enchantments fall. Draw your protector, draw your soul, your shield against insanity._  
  
The voice of the taboo child, hungry and desperate, an addict to the drug of despair. Compassion buried under apathy, nobility smothered by pain.  _Let him out. Draw the card, open the door, let all earthly prejudice fade. Draw your warrior, draw your heart, your shield against inhumanity._  
  
The voice of the murderer, quiet and hopeless, resigned to death before he was born. Love destroyed by rage, understanding blinded by obsession. _Let him out. Draw the card, open the door, let all constraints of moraltiy die. Draw your healer, draw your mind, your shield against weakness._  
  
They are his three, brought together through time, against Heaven's tide and Fate's will, bound by his will, drawn to his light.

They have fallen, and risen, and they may yet fall again - but they will be magnificent.

And yet, somewhere, the purpose has ceased to exist.

_This is how they intersect:_  
  
'You're a damn fool,' the monk said. Scorn in his voice, in the stillness of his hands. 'Damned? Who are the damned? We're all damned for the sin of living.'

'I have betrayed,' the prince replied. 'I have killed those I love.'

A laugh. It burned in its harshness. 'Do you think you're the only one,' one son asked another, 'whose hands are covered with blood?'

Silence. They watched each other. They were alike, and this more than anything made them wary of each other.

Sanzo was the first to break.

'Stop fucking  _talking_  to me in my head. I've got enough idiots in there already.'

The desert around them was empty. The moon shone down on silvered sand.

'What are you?' the gunslinger asked, almost curious.

Sanzo snorted. 'Dreaming, most likely.' A cigarette stubbed out on the sand. 'I can't even escape from you lot asleep. Fucking needy fools.'

'I don't-'

'You don't what. Need? You're screaming with it.' Hands fisted in travel-worn clothing, cold metal ring tapping against sun-browned throat. 'You're pathetic.'

Replies choked in his throat, a thousand memories rising up. The hands that pushed him away had been torn apart time and again on deserted beaches, and yet they were whole. Always whole. For him all wounds were healed.

'Who are you?' he asked.

Sanzo rose. Silver moon on white robes. 'A better question. I'm you. Or not quite. I never sold my soul to find it.' He eyed Roland dispassionately. 'Only you haven't figured that out yet, have you.'

'I have no soul.'

'No, that's your goddamn excuse. Have some pride.'

 

And this is where they diverge:   
  
_The stairs, and the darkness, and Goku clinging tight to his hand. He's never wished more to be a warrior, never wished more for that easy deadliness Tenpou and Kenren exude, that confidence and ease in their own skin. But damn if he's going to be weak, so he sets his jaw and holds_

Jake  
  
_Goku tighter and the infinity of realities converges upon this second, as they converge upon every one._

_A million other pits, a million other predators. Infinity is a process, not a plane. Ahead is life, ahead is escape. Behind them the hordes of gods, certain death. Ahead is_

The Tower  
  
_The world below, that shimmering possiblity of life that he has never dared grasp, that the men fighting for him yearn for so fiercely. Arrows, pistols, swords, the shock of the one man he hasn't seen leaping down at him, and then_

Jake falls, the bridge giving way  
  
_Goku falls, calling his name, young gold eyes so wide and real, and there's nothing he can do, nothing, and Reality holds its breath._

_For the time it takes a butterfly to flap its wings, for the time it takes to live before dying._

_And even though_  
  
there are other worlds than these  
  
_it's certain death, he dives after him, a reckless leap into the void._

_And the world exhales, and a goddess smiles, and three die and one forgets, but that's all right._

_They will be born, and born, and reborn. They will stand._  And they will be magnificent.

'You're the same as I,' Roland said, tasting the words and knowing their truth. In every world, there was a gunslinger, and in every world the man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed, chasing his destiny.

'No,' Sanzo said flatly. The wind whipped up, paper rustling on his shoulders, the mantle of his power, whipping his hair back from his face. The chosen of the gods, in every world. 'I would never let them fall.'

 

_There are other lives than these._


End file.
